A Broken Christmas
by thecrazystorywriter14
Summary: Christmas is usually a cheery time of year - presents, gifts, and other festivities. But this happiness is interrupted by an evil mammal - whose intent is to kill Nick and destroy Judy and their Christmas. Nick, with a partner named Q, learns the true meaning of Christmas and how making bad choices leads to even more devastating consequences. Rated K plus for minor romance.
1. Admiration

**Chapter 1—Admiration**

Nick's arm, slung in a white cast around his shoulder, sat as useless as a landline in the twenty-first century. The events leading up to it were discussed thoughtfully between him and Judy and usually kept secret between them. Yet that time they spent together kept Nick knowing something—that Christmas means much more than presents.

A frigid climate replaced the usually sunny days of the countryside in Savannah Central; thus, all the local neighbors kept their doors locked because the mammal-made climates used during the summertime sucked up energy during the winter. During the freezing winter mornings, electricity blackouts were common; to keep the regulators on merely increased the chance of blackouts occurring.

A certain house located in the countryside had its front yard blanketed with a sheet of snow, not unique to the other yards in the neighborhood. Judy Hopps stood in the driveway of that home, a winter coat, snow pants, hat, and a pair of gloves shielding most of her grey fur. She loved Christmas—the holiday soon arriving.

She looked up at the roof, on which Nick Wilde knelt, wearing only a light jacket, a snow hat, and a pair of boots. He did this for one purpose—to assemble Christmas lights. Judy had been urging Nick to wear something heavier for the cold, but he had refused.

His paws graciously handled each strand of lights as if they were a litter of babies and carefully strapped them to the roof, fighting through numb fingertips. Finally, Nick rubbed his paws together, walked across the roof, and descended the ladder. The metal reverberated as he did. He approached Judy, giving her an exhausted grin. He tried to hide his frigidity by stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Got the lights up." He let a sharp exhale escape his mouth, its moisture forming a semitransparent vapor. He turned to the house, inhaling.

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "You should've listened to me." She touched his elbow, and he removed his paw from his pocket. Judy squeezed it. "You're _freezing_!"

He shoved his paw into his pocket and shrugged his shoulders. "No, I'm not."

"Trust me," she said, touching his nose. "Let's get you by the fire." She touched his back and led him inside, then took his grandmother's homemade quilt from the armchair and placed it on his lap. "Hold on a second." She disappeared into the kitchen for two minutes and returned with two steaming mugs. "I don't like to see you cold." She wrapped his fingers around one of the mugs, then pulled the quilt from his lap and sat in between his legs, right in front of his chest, then pulled the quilt over her.

He flashed a smile, rubbing her head. She squealed, regripping her mug. "Your paw's still cold," she said. "Wrap your fingers around that mug and get warm. I'd rather get a warm paw than one that just held a bowl of ice cubes."

He ignored her, staring at the fire. The carpet of the living room, about a quarter-inch think, stood up to its branding of being "intensely comfortable." For a few minutes, he took occasional sips of his cocoa and rubbed Judy's head. Suddenly, he said, "Thanks for this, Carrots."

She smiled and craned her head to meet his eyes. "Why should you thank me? I should be thanking you for getting in here by the fire!" She playfully hit his ribcage with the back of her paw.

Nick chuckled, rubbing the spot Judy had hit. "Christmas is a time for gratitude, they say."

She nodded. "Speaking of Christmas—you're ready for the party tonight, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Lights and tree are up, presents are wrapped, food is made, and invitations were sent two days ago; I think we're done. Twenty minutes till guests should start coming."

Judy frowns. "Now that I think of it, we should've done this earlier."

"Why?"

"People are so busy. We don't know if anyone's going to come."

He shrugged. "The more Christmassy, the better." He rubbed Judy's head again. "Even if nobody came, I'd be sure to make this the best night for both of us." He paused for a moment. "I put some mistletoe up over there." He pointed toward the couch.

She inspected the spot, then laughed. "Nice try."

"It was worth a shot," Nick replied with a smile. "What would you be without me?"

"Basically nothing."

He just smiled. Minutes later the first knock came. Judy walked to the door with a Christmas hat and opened the door. Standing in the doorway were Judy's parents: Bonny, Judy's mother, and Stu, Judy's father. "Hey, bun-bun," Bonnie said.

"Mom!" Judy hugged her mom, then her dad. Nick held out his paw to shake theirs, but Bonnie and Stu greeting him with a hug instead. Judy laughed. "Come on in, guys." She led them to the couch.

Minutes later the next few of guests arrived: Judy's elder brother and sister Tristan and Janette, along with a third bunny entered, a male bunny. He appeared elder to Judy, and Judy greeted him with the name Marco, her supposed cousin.

Later Nick's mother, Lucy; father, John; and brother, Jack—and his spouse, Crystal—arrived. The group talked for a moment, then Nick invited them to the couch beside Judy's relatives. With a short chat, Judy discovered that Marco was actually her brother, three months younger.

Judy stood up. "Welcome, everyone." The group quickly quieted. "Glad you all could come. We really appreciate such the short notice; Nick and I kind of made this a last-minute thing." She chuckled. "Anyway, there's food in the kitchen: salad, rolls, candy…" She looked to Nick. "Am I missing something?"

"Eggnog," he said simply.

"Oh, right, eggnog for the eggnog lovers." She furtively made a thumbs-down sign, making the family laugh. "In a few minutes, we'll have some dinner, then we'll have a few games and gift exchanges later." She gestured forward. "Bon appétit." The family erupted into conversation, and Judy pressed play on the radio sitting on the mantel, which began playing quiet Christmas music. Most everybody departed the living room, leaving Nick and Marco.

Nick smiled. "Nick. And you are…?"

Marco looked at him and scoffed. "Yeah, whatever." He pushed past Nick's extended paw and stormed away.

Nick cocked an eyebrow. "The nerve of some people." He pushed away his slightly hurt feelings and retreated to the other room.

After Nick had summarized the experience, Judy said, "Some bunnies aren't used to foxes, and don't be offended when they are."

Nick shrugged it off and retreated to a table, alone. Judy was in the other room, caught up in talking with her parents. _She'll come over soon,_ he thought.

After a moment, Tristan sat in the chair to the right of him, while Janette joined him on his left.

"Hey," he said, "I'm Tristan." His voice was somewhat deep yet sounded silvery and honeyed.

Janette addressed Nick next with her soft-spoken voice, also silvery, like Tristan's. "Nice to meet you, too."

"I believe you haven't met my best bud," Tristan said, waving a nearby bunny over. The mammal lowered himself onto a chair across from Tristan. His furtive smirk faded when his eyes scanned Nick. "Marco, this is Nick."

"It's a pleasure," Nick said, restraining his clenched jaw and extending his paw.

Marco scanned Nick over, not saying anything. "C'mon, Marco, no need to be paranoid here." Tristan furtively gestured at Nick's paw and raised his eyebrows. "C'mon, shake his hand," he whispered.

Marco looked down at the floor and weakly took Nick's paw and shook it for barely a second. He retreated his hand as if Nick had some severely infectious skin disease. "Nice…to meet… _you_ ," he muttered. He quickly departed from the room.

"Sorry about that," Tristan said with an awkward grin. "He's one of the few bunnies still biased against foxes. Don't get on his bad side and you'll be okay." He patted Nick's back, and then Judy called his name, and in about a second, he and Janette were gone.

After a short conversation with Janette and Marco, Judy stood up and quieted the crowd. "All right, everyone. Time for dinner."

A few mammals started for the foot table, each dishing up their plates. Gradually, most of them dished up dinner and sat. Marco was the remaining mammal at the buffet table, so he finished serving himself and sat in the remaining chair—next to Nick.

The first half of dinner was uneventful, with harmless conversation filling the room and the occasional joke mustering laughs and chuckles. Nick's smile was back, and he was happily chatting with his brother, who was sitting on his left. "Oh, you want to hear another one?"

Jack touched his stomach, edges of his mouth still crinkled from laughter. "Yes, keep 'em comin'." He burst into laughter again.

"Okay." He let out an amused breath. "So I met this bear at a diner, and he said—" Suddenly Nick screamed.

Jack tilted his head. "You okay, little bro? That wasn't your greatest."

"No, that wasn't the joke." Nick brought his hand to his back. "Something slimy just went down my back," he said calmly.

Judy pushed back her chair and led Nick from the dining room. In the privacy of Nick's room, Judy investigated. "What the heck?"

"What is it?"

"It's mashed potatoes." She held up a glob of them. "Someone found it funny to do that to you."

Nick emerged from his room with a new shirt on, and Judy was waiting for him outside. As the two entered the dining room, Judy examined the two mammals adjacent to Nick's chair.

Jack was on one side. "Definitely not Jack. You were too busy laughing."

"Sure was," Jack said, a smirk crossing his face.

Judy turned to the other chair. Marco was sitting in it.

"All right, Marco, what's the scoop?" Nick said.

Jack suddenly burst into laughter. "Oh, _scoop_! That's great!" Nick looked at him, and Jack stopped laughing.

Judy tried this time. "Marco, we all know you did it."

"No," Marco said, furtively shaking his head. "I…didn't."

"This isn't funny, Marco," Tristan said, staring at him. "Apologize."

"To the fox? Why should I?" He glanced at Nick.

" _Now_." Tristan pointed at him.

"Oh, fine." He looked down at the ground and muttered something.

"What was that, Marco?" Judy asked.

"I'm frickin' sorry, okay?" he yelled, barely looking at Nick.

There was silence for a moment. Nick's mother, Lucy, quickly stood up and glared at Marco. "Hey, you. I do _not_ want any more of this to any guest at this party, especially my Nick—"

"Mom," Nick muttered.

She ignored him. "—and if you do _anything_ , or if you so much as touch a hair on top of his head without permission, I will personally have Judy arrest you for a misconduct. You hear me?"

"Fine…" Marco said quietly.

"What's that?"

" _Fine."_

When Lucy sat back down, Marco rolled his eyes and muttered something. He took his fork in his paw and returned to picking at his plate. While Judy and Lucy tackled the mountain of dishes in the kitchen, the rest of the guests and Nick relaxed in the living room, where the Christmas Eve football game was playing on the flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. Jack, Nick and John sat eagerly on the couch, focused on the animals tackling each other in a frenzied mess only few could fully understand.

A card table had been set up near the corner of the room, where Tristan, Janette, and Crystal were playing a card game. Tristan looked at the TV occasionally, asking the eager football fans questions about the numbers, timers, and strange phrases either uttered or shown on screen. Marco sat away from the three foxes at an empty part of the couch, quietly talking to Tristan as he scanned his phone.

"Go, go, go!" Nick said as a fox in a red uniform bolted toward one end of a football field. Another fox in blue jumped on and tackled him.

"Dang it!" John said.

"C'mon, McCallister!" Jack said. "He should have made it."

"Yeah, but they're on the five-yard line," Nick said. "If anything, they'll at least make a field goal."

"Not that close," John said. "The only one who could make such a high kick could probably be Denanger."

Judy emerged from the kitchen. "We've got pie in here, everyone."

"Yeah, yeah," Nick waved a paw at her, not taking his eyes from the screen. "C'mon, c'mon…" He jumped from his seat. " _Yes_!"

"Whoo!" Jack said, high-fiving Nick.

"You guys want pie?" John said, standing up.

"Sure," Nick and Jack said at about the same time.

"What kind?"

Judy suddenly appeared. "Nick likes pumpkin with extra whipped cream." She put a plate on his lap. "Jack, what type do you like?"

"Coconut," he said. Like Nick, he kept his eyes on the screen,

Judy brought the pies one by one, and Lucy soon jumped in to help. Eventually everyone was served, and Judy sat down by Nick, a piece of carrot cake in her paw. "How's the game going?"

"Okay," he eventually said. He focused on the game, fork pressed into his quarter-eaten pie.

"Who are you guys rooting for?"

"Packs," Jack said simply.

Judy smirked a little. "I'll be back in a second." She stood up and walked backwards from the room, not watching Nick. Had he not been watching the game, he would have said something.

"What the…"

She turned around. Jack's eyes widened. Tristan, Crystal, and Janette simply stared at Nick.

Jack burst out laughing.

Nick's snout and eyes were painted with whipped cream. Tiny flakes of roasted coconut littered the couch and were populous on Nick's eyelids and near his ears and nose. He growled, which he didn't do often, and glared at Jack, who bit his tongue and forced his smile away.

Judy glared at Marco. "Seriously?" He was snickering in the corner of the room.

"Can you arrest him, please, Judy honey?" Lucy looked at Judy with innocence, then her evil eyes returned as soon as she looked at Marco.

Judy shakes her head. "I don't have handcuffs." She looked at Nick, who had a green rag pressed to his face. "Hey, Nick, can you please lead Marco outside and lock him in the police cruiser?"

Nick wiped the rest of the pie off and nodded slowly. Judy took the rag, and Nick pulled Marco's paws behind his back and forced him outside. "Hey, it was innocent, honest!" Marco pleaded.

"On-duty or not, I'm still an officer of the law." Marco pushed his feet into the ground, and Nick pushed him forward, nearly knocking him over. "Resisting arrest is a crime by itself," he sneered. "I suggest you don't try anything else." The cruiser came into view. "You are under arrest for misconduct against a police officer. Anything you say will be used against you. You must not treat anyone, _especially_ a police officer like me, with such disrespect." He produced a search warrant, patting Marco down and finding nothing out of the ordinary. He pulled the door open and shoved Marco into the caged part of the cruiser. He turned to him to speak but instead closed his mouth, then he slammed the door. He glanced back one time before returning to the house.

Judy frowned. "I'm so sorry, Nick." She wrapped him in a tight embrace. "I didn't know my brother could be such a jerk."

Nick managed a smile. "Don't tell me about it."

Suddenly a sharp shattering sound cut the air.

"Crud," Nick said, ripping the door open and rushing outside toward the driveway. Glass shards littered the ground around the car like little toy bricks in a playroom. "I had a feeling Marco had another trick up his sleeve." He stepped over the glass and peered into the window. "The lock's busted and the cage is open." He shook his head and stepped back over the glass. "I have to catch this guy before this felony becomes more tragic." He and Judy quickly embraced, then he started his car with his key, jumped into the cruiser, and drove off.

He took a heavy right on the street out of his neighborhood. Marco sprinted toward the end of the road, feet pounding the sidewalk with each step. Nick flicked on his lights and siren, and Marco took a quick look back and bent down, his stride lengthening. Suddenly the whirl of helicopter blades filled the air. Nick peered underneath the top of the windshield to find a red helicopter descending toward the end of the street he was on. He stepped on the gas just as Marco jumped for the hanging ladder. He caught it with one paw, and the helicopter began ascending.

Nick swore under his breath and produced a handgun from the glove compartment. He pressed the cartridge in and aimed the barrel at the rabbit, then fired. Marco nearly fell from the rope ladder when he clenched his thigh. Nick pressed the trigger again, but it simply clicked. Nick slowed the car and fiddled with the gun, but the helicopter was out of range before he could retrieve another cartridge. Nick peered up in the sky. The rope ladder was being pulled up.

 _Dang_ , Nick thought, putting the gun away and U-turning at the next cross street. The only thing left on his mind as he returned was the empty gun and Marco's escape.

Nick turned back onto his street, eyeing the green street sign on the corner through his side mirror. He sighed and slowed at the approach of his humble home.

There was a grey Zamero parked in the driveway. When Nick shut off the car, the door to the sedan opened, and a red fox stepped out. Nick tore the keys from the ignition and opened his door, stepping onto the grass beside the curb. As Nick approached the fox turned to him, smiling. "We've been expecting you," he said, outstretching his paw. He wore a pair of grey dress pants and a green business shirt with an opaque blue tie tucked inside his collar. "I'm Major Boothroyd, but you can call me Q. I am the head of the Research and Development Department. I also work for the Zootopia Secret Intelligence Service, also known as MI6. We work closely with the Zootopia Intelligence Agency, also known as the following Mammal Intelligence Agency. We also work with you guys, the ZPD—is it?"

Nick nods hesitantly as he shakes Q's hand. "Nice to meet you, too. I'm—"

"Oh, I know who you are. You're Nick Wilde, an officer of the ZPD."

Nick raises his eyebrows. "It's good to know that I have my file on the system. Anyway, what are you doing here, Q?"

Q straightened his tie and smiled. "We received an anonymous call regarding a crime that occurred here. I'm here to help crack it."

Nick nodded. "Just got back from chasing the guy, but he got away in a getaway helicopter." He pointed to the shattered window. "He broke that window, but I locked the cage inside—it's an electronic, burglar resistant lock. He somehow hacked the cage door to open and broke the window." He looked at the ground, rolling his bottom lip against his teeth. "Who called?

Q chuckled. "Sorry to break it to you, but anonymous means anonymous. We have no legal authority to tell you—unless you want me to kill you. The mammal who transmitted the anonymous message has rights under the Zootopian Anonymity Act. I'm sure you're familiar with it."

"Yes, I am."

"Well, you're a police officer, so you know right to follow it." He let out a humored breath. "Now, to resume this issue, we need some information before we can start cracking this case. Do you have any information on the suspect, including the name, species, and age?" Q's words of the last sentence rolled perfectly together, like they had been scripted.

"Yeah," Nick says, "His name's Marco Hopps." He walked past him. "Hold on. I have his sister here." He disappeared into the house and emerged a moment later with Judy at his tail.

Judy crossed into the grass and took Q's outstretched paw. "Nick told me you're Q, right?"

"Yes. Our suspect is your brother, correct?"

"Yes, but I wouldn't say he's a _suspect_ per se; Nick already arrested him."

"Oh, he didn't say that." He smiled at Nick, then looked back at Judy. "You're Judy Hopps, son of Bonnie and Stu, correct?"

"Yes. How'd you know that?"

"Didn't Nick tell you I work with the ZIA?"

"No, he didn't." Judy looked at him, then back at Q. "What do you need from me?"

"Our suspect. Marco Hopps."

"No offense, Q, but wouldn't you already know a ton about this guy since you work for the ZIA?" Nick asked.

"I don't work forthe ZIA; I work _with_ them. If I did work for them, I'd only be here for questioning." He held up a clipboard. "We'll get to that right after we get the rest of Marco's information, our _accused_." He pressed a pencil to the paper. "Age?"

"I got this," Judy said, silencing Nick. "Twenty-four."

"Male?"

"Yes."

He looked at Judy. "Rabbit…" He wrote something down, then put the pencil back. "All right, we can go." He gestured to the grey Zamero. "We'll need both of you down here for the most comprehensive investigation. It also helps that both of you are the ZPD's top officers." He rounded the car and stepped inside. Nick was beside him. Q turned to the back and smiled at Judy. "Is that how you two met? The Night Howler case?"

"I got to know him better through it. We met when I spied on him at an elephant ice cream parlor."

"Got a great hustle out of it," Nick said, smiling. "You should have seen her face when I she finally connected the dots that I lied to her."

"You'll never let me live that down, will you?" Judy said.

Q began backing from the driveway but tapped on the brakes when Tristan scampered toward their car. Judy rolled down the window. "Tristan?"

"Can I come?"

"Tristan, this is a police investigation."

"So?"

"Like how surgeons are only allowed in an operation bay, only certain people can go investigate this case."

"Like they say, the husband gets to come cut the baby's umbilical cord."

Judy closed her eyes. "Fine."

Q found it valuable that Tristan tagged along; he provided some valuable information on Marco. Most of it was empty information, like his favorite song being "Baby" by Justin Beaver and all seven of his high school crushes, but some tidbits proved valuable, like the last four digits of Marco's social security number and his whole phone number.

Since most of the conversation was directed toward Marco, Q, and Judy, Nick listened for a moment, falling into slumber with the rumble of the car.

Nick slowly gave in to consciousness as Judy shook his shoulder. "Hey, we're here."

" _What_?" Nick said, eyes still half-closed. Another minute passed before he became fully aware. The building anterior to them was a large concrete structure, decorated with bricks and overlapping concrete shingles. A large acronym in two-foot high letters hung on the front, about ten feet above the front doors. It read "ZRDD," the Zootopia Research and Development Department.

Nick shook himself awake and stepped out onto the asphalt. Q stood on the sidewalk in front of the building, tapping his foot. "There you are." He entered with Judy at his tail, and Nick quickly followed. The walls inside were a dull grey, and blue carpet lined the floors. A pine sapling decorated with ornaments sat on the desk, and a large Christmas wreath hung behind a marble desk.

Q approached the worker and talked for a few moments. He said something about an information transaction, and the worker stood up and disappeared into the back room. The worker returned with a sheet of paper, handed it to Q, and led Nick, Judy, and Tristan into a private conference room.

The room was quite plain: A simple circular wooden table stood in the middle, chairs surrounding it. Decorations within the room were a small dorm refrigerator in the corner of the room and a coffee machine supported by a counter. A large window, revealing the parking lot, allowed twilight to dully illuminate the room.

Q flicked on the lights and thanked the worker. After she left and Nick and Judy got settled, Q left the room for a moment and returned with three copies of the paper. He distributed them to Tristan, Nick, and Judy, and he kept the original for himself.

"I don't want to waste time reading everything on here," Q started, "but I'll go over the highlights." He tapped a pencil on the paper, which was clipped to a clipboard. "He calls himself 'Marcus Hoppaway'; he is a registered hacker and has been charged with multiple counts of hacking." He looked at Nick. "Figures why he got out of your cruiser."

"Makes sense," he said.

Q looked up at Nick for a moment, then back at his paper. "He works for a company called DedSec, a globally-known, profit organization posing as a business operations company. These guys are against all ZPD officers and the CIA." He chuckled. "Not surprised. These guys are infamous in the CIA." He moved his pencil down. "He has a partner—Tie—a wolf. He is Marco's best friend and partner in crime."

Nick's phone suddenly rang. "Excuse me." He stood up and left the room. Once he was out, he answered the call and held the phone to his ear. "This is Nick."

"Wilde, there was a break in at West Savannah Central Bank. We require a questioning."

"On it. ETA five."

"10-4."

"10-4."

Nick rushed back into the room. "There was a break-in at WSC Bank. They just need us to question the suspect."

"Was that Bogo?" Judy asked.

"Yes."

"I'll come," Q said, standing. "I think you'll need another witness."

Tristan stood and opened his mouth, but Nick raised a paw. "Q, get a taxi before we leave. Tristan sure isn't coming for this one."

The two-mile drive didn't take long even though traffic was packed on the way there. Judy had to cut into the left side of the road with her lights on, but the rest of the ride was uneventful. All three no longer bantered; they only spoke plainly when Chief Bogo informed them of the case.

A police cruiser was parked against the curb in front of the bank. A group of police officers stood around it, and one was examining a tan bag leaning against the front of the vehicle. There was a wolf, about five feet tall, who sat on the curb a few feet from the officers, his paws tied behind his back. He looked to be in his adolescent years and wore an oversized plain white T-shirt hidden by a small leather jacket. He wore long, black khakis and had a black baseball cap perched on his head. He looked downward as Nick approached. "Hey," he said gently. "What's your name?"

The wolf's shoulders slumped a bit, but he kept his eyes trained on the ground. "Tie."

Nick's breath hitched. "Do you happen to know anybody named Marco?"

Tie's arm muscles tensed. "Tie?" Nick asked.

Silence.

Nick pressed his lips together. "Do you know Marco?"

Tie furtively shrugged. "He's my partner."

Nick nodded slowly. "What's your full name?"

He pulled his jacket toward his midline, quiet for a moment. "Tie—Tie Honga."

Nick raised his eyebrows. "You understand, Tie, that robbing a bank is a felony?"

He froze. "Yes."

"Why did you do it?"

"My family needs it. I"—he pressed his paw to his thigh—"We need money so we don't go hungry."

Nick glanced over his shoulder at Judy, then back at Tie. "Oh…kay." He pushed his mouth to his right cheek. "It was your choice, so, unfortunately, you'll have to spend some time in jail for this. It's just how it is." Nick turned to the other officer, nodded, and the officer took him by the wrist and dragged him away.

Nick turned to Judy. "Typical case. Wonder why Bogo makes us do this. There were already police officers here."

"It's all the 'just in case,' Nick. Everything with us is 'just in case.'"

"So you're telling me that we didn't have to cross on the wrong side of the road?"

"No, but Bogo wanted us there quick, so…"

"Well, let's get back," Nick said. Q unlocked the car, and Nick stepped into the passenger's side.

Just when all the doors were closed and Q started the car, an officer approached Nick's window. He rolled it down, and the officer peeked inside. "Officer Wilde. In a pat-down with the suspect we found this." He held up a bottle with crossbones on it. "It's strychnine. It's a poison."

Nick took the bottle and rubbed the back of his neck. "Why?"

The officer shrugged. "I'm as clueless as you are." He eyed Nick's paw on the back of his neck. "Be careful handling that. The stuff absorbs through the skin."

Nick stopped rubbing his neck. Q retrieved the bottle and rotated it in his fingers. "It's strychnine, all right." He looked at the bottom of the bottle. "I can submit it to our poison analysis lab and get results as early as tonight." He paused. "And if the bank-robber has by any chance used this—and since he teamed up with Marco—he could've increased the concentration and planned to use it as a weapon. Or worse." He held the bottle over a cup holder. "Get me a bag, will you?"

The officer outside held up a bag. "Here."

Nick handed it to Q. While he prepared the bottle, he said, "I can almost _guarantee_ that this isn't the only bottle." He placed the bottle into the cup holder. "I'll take you home and come by later with the results."

They exchanged phone numbers on the ride back, then, after parking in the driveway, Q saluted the officers. He descended the driveway halfway and lowered his window. "If I get through fast, I'll be back in an hour. Tops."

He drove off, the silhouette of the vehicle disappearing around the corner. Besides Nick and Judy, the driveway was bare. "I guess they all left," Judy said.

"No kidding. Wonder if Tristan's still here." He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. The lights were on, and Tristan sat at the table, a book in his paws. "Took you guys long enough."

"They didn't take you?" Nick said, and Judy elbowed him. Nick eyed her, rubbing his side.

"They left a note." He pointed toward the counter. "There."

Nick walked over and picked it up. "Dear Judy and Nick, we decided it would be appropriate for us to leave early since you both left. We would like Tristan to spend the night if you'd like. Otherwise, you can have Judy call her parents to come pick her up. We'll be back tomorrow at noon to have a make-up party. Love, the Wilde and Hopps Family."

"Well, Tristan," Nick said, setting the note down, "it looks like you'll be spending the night with us tonight."

"Figured."

"But…"

"Here he goes again." Judy said, smirking.

"…I need to establish some ground rules." He paused, receiving no objections. "First, everyone to bed by ten. Second, no loud noises. Third, don't come up at two in the morning."

Thirty minutes passed, mostly banter and finishing the football game. Nick paused his game when the doorbell rang. "It's probably Q. I'll get it." He walked over to the door and pulled it open. Q sat on the porch bench outside. Nick closed the door, looking up into the dark sky. A few stars peeked out from the darkness, and a half-moon sat suspended in the sky. "Warm night."

"It was interesting. There was nobody at the center."

"I guess that explains why it only took thirty minutes." He turned around. "Want me to get Judy?"

"Don't bother. I'll only be a minute." He gestured toward himself. Nick approached him and leaned against the guard rail. "Wilde," Q said, "this is serious. The strychnine's laced with ten different chemicals, most being street drugs." He lifted a paper.

Nick took it from him and scanned it over. "THC, nicotine, hallucinogenic compounds," Nick read, "ricin…" He gestured his paw holding the paper in front of himself. Nick looked at Q, straight in the eyes. "I know that this poison is dangerous by itself. But having it laced with these other chemicals—"

"Would change brain chemistry, cause hallucinogenic effects, and poison and ultimately _kill_." He pointed to the paper. "Check how much ricin there is in that one tiny bottle."

Nick scanned the paper. "Twelve grams."

"Six times the lethal dose." He bit his lip. "Unfortunately," Q continued, "we'll haveto go compromise Marco before he fulfills any master plan he has—"

He stopped. Full on, all-out stopped. His eyes went white, and he slumped over without another word. Nick stood, and everything went black.


	2. Time for a Change

**Chapter 2 - Time for a Change**

Nick woke, body forced into the fetal position. Fabric restrained his movement. He still managed to push himself across the uncomfortable floor he was on. He only moved a few feet when he collapsed, and his tongue hung outside his mouth and the foul stench of the bag entered his nostrils. He restrained a tingle in his chest—it was a cough trying to inch its way up his throat.

The floor lurched suddenly. The first thought was an earthquake. But as soon as it came, it went. What replaced it for another fifteen seconds was a subtle hum of the floor until another bump jarred practically everything and made Nick hit his elbow on the uneven floor. He steadied himself. _A car_ , he thought. _I'm in a car._

 _Think, Nick._

There were sounds around—one to his far left, then to his far right, then behind him. Then nothing. Then far left again. Behind. Right. Behind. Nothing.

It wasn't a simple trunk. Wherever he was, it was massive. Boxlike type of massive.

Nick let his breathing slow again, and then he inched to the side. His elbow bumped something. But it wasn't metallic, nor did it feel immovable. It was living. It was alive. _Life,_ Nick thought.

"Q?"

No answer. He tried again. "Q?"

"Is that you, Wilde? We need to find a way out of here." A quiet tearing sound pierced the inside of the room. Careful, I am going to stab a knife into your bag, so don't move unless you _want_ to be stabbed." Nick closed his eyes. Suddenly Q took his paw and pulled him up. "All done."

Nick examined the room. It was still dark, but a small light on the ceiling allowed for some light. "Where'd you get a knife?"

"I keep it in my sock. You never know when it'll come in handy." Q pointed to the anterior side of the car. "That's where the driver is located. We want to somehow compromise him." He picked a pistol off the floor. "One thing that all criminal masterminds do is that they never commit crimes themselves. The one driving is one of Marco's henchmen. You good with a pistol?"

Nick shrugged. "Good enough."

Q pointed the weapon downward and passed it to Nick. "All right. After I open the window to the cabin, get him to pull this thing over. If he doesn't comply, compromise him, but only shoot if you must. Then get control of this thing."

Nick nodded and bit his lip, extending his arms with both hands gripping the back of the gun, index fingers slightly above the trigger. Q put one paw on the window handle and held up three fingers. He put down one, then another until only a fist was raised. He pulled the window open, and Nick rushed inside, gun leveled at the driver. "Pull over! This is the police!"

The driver glanced back and veered the car slightly to the right. "Okay, okay." He slowed the car and put it in park. He slowly turned around and held up two paws. "You got me. Just don't shoot."

"Get in the back."

The driver inched toward the separatory window. "Okay." Suddenly Q's paws reached out and took the driver into the back. Seconds later, Q entered, shutting the window. "Tied and compromised."

Nick touched the wheel. "I haven't really _driven_ in a while..."

Q pushed past Nick and sat down. He scanned the dashboard and pulled a paper map off. "Wow, they still have these?" He looked it over. There was a building circled in red. "That's the spot. We're off." He put it into drive and pulled onto the road.

"I guess some criminal masterminds really seem like they want this to happen—"

He paused and glanced back at Nick. "I have an idea. There should be an outfit in the back. Go put it on."

"Why?"

"Just trust me. I'm not trained to do field work, but you are. Five minutes."

Nick shuffled to the back room, scanning over what was inside. He searched for a minute with no success, then shuffled over to a shelf with a square silhouette on it. He produced a shirt, then dug around in the pool of fabric and pulled out a pair of pants. He quickly slipped them on, cheeks burning at the thought of the criminal staring at him. Thankfully, it was dark. He shuffled back to the cabin just as Q pulled onto the freeway. Q merged, then took a quick glance. The black, sleek outfit fit Nick's waist and chest about as well as a glove fit a hand; if it had been only a smidge smaller, it never would've fit. The waist of the shirt barely covered his waist, but overall fit well. On the waistband was nothing except a holder for a pistol. He picked up the pistol and stuck it into the holder. "What now?"

"Sit." He gestured to the passenger's seat. "It'll be a while."

Though they were driving toward what could have been certain death, Nick found himself smiling when a song he liked came on. Fifteen minutes passed, and Q pulled off the freeway, turned right at a light, and stopped when a dead-end sign came up after driving onto a dirt road.

"When you get to Marco, chain him to the nearest—"

"Stable structure and wait for backup. I know, we've been over this too many times to count."

"Go get 'em. If you don't come back, it was nice knowing you."

Nick chuckled nervously. "See you soon." He turned to Q to say something, but he stopped. _Tell Judy that I love her if I don't come back._ He turned and walked off.

Darkness surrounded him then. It was cool, too; the earth was cooling off from the hot weather that day. Thoughts raged in his mind. _What if I did tell Q that?_

 _What if I do die? What then?_

He kept silent, sneaking through grass and stepping over dirt mounds and around a fire hydrant sitting on a cement slab. The dirt abruptly stopped at a cement foundation, which was probably one hundred feet across, though it could have been several tens more or less. Nick stepped onto the foundation. Toward the center of the foundation was a windowless, ramshackle building that had several lights flickering on the outside, staining the pavement a dull yellow. A blue, faded door sat on one side of the building that read "Family." Nick approached the door and pinched his lips, then gripped the handle. It had been at least six hours since he had seen a bathroom.

He shook his head and let go of the knob. To the left of the blue door was a dull, metallic one with no handle or knob. Nick glanced at the blue door again, then put his paw on the smooth, metal surface of the other door and pushed inside. A dark stairway was underneath him, leading down to a platform barely illuminated by a sliver of light underneath another door in front of it. He pattered down the stairs, stopping just before he touched the door. _Three… two…_

He touched the handle. Suddenly reality disappeared, and a picture of Judy flashed in his mind. It was her at his inauguration. She was looking at him.

"When I was a kid, I thought Zootopia was this perfect place where everyone got along and anyone could be anything..."

Nick let go of the handle, then closed his eyes.

"We all have limitations. We all make mistakes," Judy said.

He gripped the handle again. One last phrase came in. "But we have to try."

He pushed open the door, his fingers over the top of the pistol placed in the holster. It was a large concrete room with a small computer in the corner along with a dorm fridge. There was a table in the center of the room with two figures disproportionately illuminated by a naked light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The first was Marco; the other was Tie Honga, the fugitive Nick had interviewed earlier that day. The noise made Marco stand and pull a pistol from his coat pocket. "I was expecting you." It was a sleek pistol with a visibly round barrel.

"Me?"

"Don't forget the gun." He gestured to it. "I have your life in my hands." The tone was harsh, like a drill sergeant and a robber.

"Put the gun down," Nick said softly.

"Ain't gonna happen." He clicked the safety off. "Don't make me use this."

"Marcus Hoppaway, put the gun down," Nick said evenly. "Now."

"You think I'm going to listen to a fox, pretty boy? You think you're so smart." He squeezed the handle of the firearm. "How deplorable of you to fall in love with my sister. She deserves better."

An edgy, twitchy feeling exploded in his chest, and Nick had to force his paw from lifting the gun. "Don't… _ever_ say"—he looked at the floor, teeth and jaw clenched—"anything about Judy. Ever again."

"There's plenty to say. I mean, she fell in love with a _fox_. There's too much wrong with that."

Nick was seething. Nothing could accurately show what was happening inside him except his tightly clenched stomach muscles, albeit a billionth of his actual emotion. "What is wrong with you?"

"The real question is what's wrong with _you_. Falling in love with a bunny is analogous to putting a piece of metal into a fire. It just doesn't make sense."

Nick lifted his gun. "Oh, boy, you made a mistake." He lifted and shot the gun so quickly that Marco could barely react. Marco screamed and fell, paws surrendered to his ear. His gun slid across the cement and bumped into a nearby wall. Nick put his gun back and kicked Marco in the shin. "People like you deserve a bar to the head." He kicked him again. "Don't ever speak to me again." Nick picked up Marco's gun, wedged it against the wall, and pushed until it bent just enough to prevent it from firing. He then tossed it aside and took Marco's paws. He unbuckled Marco's belt and chained his paws to the large pole that sat in the middle of the room.

Forgetting about Tie, Nick walked over to the small dorm fridge and opened the door.

What he saw was a shock.

At least twenty bottles of the laced poison—strychnine—stood upon the shelves of the fridge. _Tie_. Nick spun around, pistol aimed right at Tie. "What exactly _is_ this?"

Tie sneered. "I won't tell you."

Nick took a bottle and raised it above his head. "I swear, there is no 'no.'" He shut the fridge with one paw. "Tell me."

Tie's arms tensed. "Okay, okay! Please, just don't hurt me!"

"Good—"

"There have been some big mistakes, but yours…" There was a laugh. "Yours was catastrophic." Marco was beside him, a gun pressed to Nick's temple. "You don't deserve any last words." He looked at Nick with so much anger and resentment that if he had had any more, his face would have melted right off his skull.

In a last-ditch effort, Nick punched Marco in the stomach so hard that he fell back and gagged. The gun fired, missing Nick completely. Tie screamed and held his foot with both paws, tears staining his eyes. Nick held up the poison and looked at Marco. _Now_ , he thought.

But he didn't throw it.

And again, the gun was back on his head. Marco's face was twisted, and he hit Nick in the skull with the barrel. "Full of mistakes, aren't you? Wait till Judy hears about this. You know why? Because you won't be able to tell her." He pressed the trigger.

Nothing.

"What the?" He clicked again. Nothing. Nick craned his body and threw the poison at Marco's foot. He moved his foot away, and the broken bottle slid toward the other side of the room. Green liquid ran in all directions across the floor, and Nick slid out of the way, as did Marco. He looked over at Nick. "Look what you did, you selfish retard."

Nick formed a fist and threw it with all his strength. Marco raised the gun and blocked the punch, but Nick's fist missed, and his arm hit the barrel. A snap echoed the building, and Nick screamed, paw grasping his wrist.

Suddenly backup burst in.

"Paws over your head!" an elephant officer said. Marco dashed toward another door, but Wolfard intercepted the rabbit with a clean tackle and chained him at the wrists. Another officer took the agonized Tie and chained him, pulling him from the room with Marco.

One officer, the medic of the group, approached and softly touched Nick's arm. "It's broken." He helped Nick up and led him up the staircase, then out the door. The place was filled with red and blue lights.

There was a blue medical tent set up by an ambulance. The officer led Nick inside.

The suspicion was true: Nick had experienced an incomplete fracture of his right radial bone. The doctor put it in a white cast, slung it around Nick's shoulder, leaving Nick's paw exposed. The doctor told him that it would take four months to heal, and in that time, he should refrain from using his right paw.

After about half an hour of questioning and investigation, Nick sat on the end of the ambulance, staring at the ground. He had to restrain himself from moving his broken arm. "I can't believe it."

Officer Wolfard glanced away from the questioning of a bystander and approached the ambulance. "You mind if I sit?"

Nick over. Wolfard rubbed his lips, glancing over at Nick a couple times, then he sat. "That was some move you made in there."

"Kinda broke my arm, though." He looked down at it. He paused and looked over at one of the police cars. Its lights illuminated the cement wall of the building. "Marco was a jerk."

"All criminals are. Not to mention, he was a _national_ criminal."

"This just doesn't match up. There must have been some reason I didn't recognize Marco when he came over."

"He went dormant for about three years. It started a year before Judy came in."

"And nobody told her?"

"It wasn't as big then as it was a year before. I mean, she was just a rookie. She knew the name Marcus Hoppaway, but she didn't connect him to be her brother." He looked over to the pitch-black horizon. "He just… disappeared when he stopped doing things." He stood up and looked at Nick again. "Bogo said he'll call you. Get well." He touched Nick on the back, smiled, and rejoined the officers by the police car.

Soon the group split, and Wolfard reappeared. "Well, I guess I'm taking you home." He gestured forward to the dark silhouette of his police cruiser dimly lit by surrounding vehicles' lights. Nick ambled over, and Wolfard helped him into the passenger's seat before rounding the car and getting in. He turned the ignition and instinctively turned down the radio. He expertly guided the cruiser from the site and pulled away. Nick glanced into the side mirror. The blue-red, serious scene shrunk before it turned from his view when Wolfard turned onto a paved road.

"What music do you listen to?" Wolfard asked after a few minutes of silence.

Nick shrugged. "Country, I guess."

Wolfard fingered the dials on the control panel and stopped at a channel that played soft country music. "This all right?"

Nick listened for a moment. "This works." He looked out the window.

Wolfard let the music play while he looked back at the road and drove again in silence, this time for about ten minutes. "I wanted to get Judy down here, but it's way too late." He glanced at the clock. "Merry Christmas," he added.

"Saint Nick's comin' to town," Nick said, managing a smile. "Merry Christmas."

The corner of his mouth upturned, Wolfard clicked on a Christmas station. Appropriately, it was amidst playing "Jolly Old Saint Nick."

* * *

Nick turned the handle to his front door. It was unlocked. _Not surprised_ , Nick thought, considering Judy had probably been up worrying since he had disappeared. His eyebrows lowered when the living room was dark. Not a single light was on.

Nick turned into the hall and looked at the bottom of Judy's door. There weren't any lights on, so Nick silently resolved to go to bed and surprise her in the morning. He quietly walked into the nearby bathroom and relieved himself, then he promptly went to his room and flicked on the light. Everything felt different—more inaccessible—now that one of his limbs was immovable. He sighed, then pulled off the black suit and slipped on some shorts and a white T-shirt. He then pulled back the covers and got in, careful not to move his right arm too much. He was about to lie down when a light appeared under the door. As quickly as it came, it disappeared, and the squeak of his door echoed the hallway.

"Nick?"

Nick pushed himself back with his left paw, staying silent. "Are you there?" the voice said.

Nick closed his eyes, his mouth dry and tears welling up inside his eyelids. "Yes." He switched on the bedside lamp. Judy stood by the open door, both paws over her gaping mouth. Her lip quivered, and she sat on the bed next to his legs, then crawled up to him and filled him in her arms. "Nick, you're safe."

"Careful, you'll—" He stopped for a moment and glanced down at his arm.

Judy looked down and stared at his cast, her head jittering from left to right with more disbelief than disagreement. "Why?"

He embraced her. "Marco."

She suddenly sobbed, putting her face in his neck and staying there. Her whole body trembled, and she tried forming a few words, but her lips were trembling so much that she couldn't. She slowly lowered herself into his chest and wrapped her arms around his upper trunk. She focused on his heartbeat, which was fast at first but slowly reduced in rate.

Nick placed his left paw on her head and cradled it into his chest. A tear sneaked from under his eyelid and streamed down his cheek. Judy squeezed him harder. "Why would he do such a thing?" Her voice rose. "I don't know! Why in the world would someone—"

Nick bit his lip and snuggled his head into hers. "P-please," he sobbed. "Blame me. I deserve it."

"What do you mean?"

"I was stupid enough to go after Marco than escape."

"What happened?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

They separated and sat crisscross on the bed, face-to-face. Judy took his paws in hers. "Answer me."

"I tried to punch him, but…" He let go of her paws and looked down. "…he used the gun to block the punch, and I broke my wrist on it."

"Wait! What gun?" She suddenly stiffened. "He tried to kill you?"

He swallowed, then said shakily, "Yes." He clasped both of his paws in one another, but they still trembled. "He put…" He closed his eyes and let out a sharp breath. His next breath hitched, and he whined until he broke into sobs. "He put a gun to my head."

Her eyes went cold, staring straight ahead with intense focus. Her lips flattened. "No."

He looked at her. "Yes, he—"

She hit the bedside table, the thump exploding through the room. "I can't." She broke sobbing again. "I… just can't."

Nick this time took her in his arm until her sobs softened into whimpers. "It's Christmas, Judy. Just be thankful I'm alive. Marco's arrested, and the scene's secure. You don't know how lucky I was."

"Lucky," she said. "You really think you're lucky." The lines were so flat that it was difficult to determine whether they were questions or statements.

"Yes, Judy, I'm lucky!" Nick said. Judy pulled back at his outburst. Nick looked at her, eyes wet and arms trembling. "I'm here to hug you. I'm here to talk to you. I'm—here to love you." He slowly looked up, and their eyes met. "Please, for all you're worth—and that's a lot—don't be angry."

She looked down, then nodded. "Okay." She managed a smile. "Okay, I will." She embraced him. "I'm so glad you're home."

"That's more like it." He was grinning now. He looked at for a second, then yawned. "We'll talk in the morning, all right?"

Judy got down from the bed and helped Nick lay down, then she pulled the covers up to his chin. She smiled, then kissed him on the head. "Good night, Nick. Love you."

He had a smile across his face. _It's going to be much better tomorrow,_ he thought. _Yes, it is._ "Night, Fluff."

She opened the door and looked back at him. "Merry Christmas."

Just before she closed the door, he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear, "Love you too, Carrots."

* * *

Nick rolled over and yawned, blinking at the sunray entering through the crack in the blinds. He craned his neck to the bedside table. Two two-digit numbers glared on the digital clock that faced him, both separated by a colon: 10:12. "Gee, I really outdid myself last night." He turned to lie back down.

"Yes, you did," a voice said. Nick jerked back up and looked down. Judy sat crisscross about a foot from the bed. "Merry Christmas. You slept well?"

"Prefer my arm unbroken, but yes."

She nodded, a bit of the sadness from the early morning returning to her face. It soon disappeared. "I need to show you something."

"My new car? Fluff, you shouldn't have."

"Ha! I'm not rolling in dough, you know." She looked up, then reached behind her. She held up glass ornament. "What is this?"

Nick inspected it—a wrapped present was inside, tied with a bow. "A present."

Judy nodded. "What do you do with it?"

"Give it—" He cocked his head. "This is dumb. What are you doing?"

She scoffed. "Trying to teach a lesson here, Nick P."

He chuckled. "Sorry? I mean, I'm just asking what this is about."

"Here, I'll tell you something—remember... last year. When you gave me that necklace?"

He nodded. "Yes."

She held it up. "Did you make it?"

"I got it custom made to say 'Judy' on it, so yes."

"How much did it cost?"

"Eight hundred. At least."

She smirked. "How'd you feel when you gave it to me?"

He started to speak and then stopped. "Can we stop now? This is getting really dumb."

"Just roll with it."

He shrugged. "All right."

"Let me ask again. How did you feel?"

"Happy, excited, and compassionate."

"You think it would be better to receive a new phone or to give someone a new phone?"

"Probably receive it? I mean, with all the new models…"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Let me rephrase that—would you want to give _me_ a valuable gift, or receive a valuable gift?"

"If I say the right answer, will you be quiet?"

She let out a sharp breath. "Fine."

"It would probably be politer to give to you."

She nodded. "Have I taught you a lesson? Do you know the true meaning of Christmas?"

"Give, rather than receive?"

She nodded. "Perfect."

Nick smiled at her. "Can we just get on with it?"

"Patience," she said. "Okay. I'll get my—"

He sat up on the bed. "I'll go first." He stood up and left the room, then returned with a small box wrapped in cartoon carrots with a blue background. A purple bow on top finished the touch. "To Fluff."

"Look at you, Mr. Gift Wrapper." She inspected the box. "I should just keep the box."

"Trust me, the inside's the beautiful part."

"Okay." She peeled back the paper, revealing a black silk-covered case. "Nick."

"I think I should do the honors. For old times' sake." He took the box from her paws.

"Nick, what are you doing?"

"This will all make sense in a minute." He stood up. "Trust me, this is definitely what it's cracked up to be."

"Nick…" She looked down at the ground.

"There's something I have to say." She didn't answer. "We've been together for two years, live in the same house—I think it's time for a change."

"What?"

"Oh, Carrots." He bent down and rubbed her head. When she looked up, he was on one knee. "Judy."

Her voice halted, and she jerked her head back. "You're not…"

He smirked. "Oh, yes, I am." He opened the box. There was a diamond ring inside. "Judith Laverne Hopps, partner in fighting crime and the love of my life…" He smiled. "Will you—"

"Yes!" She bounded up and squeezed him. "Yes, yes, yes!" She took the ring from the box and put it on her finger. "So much yes!"

"So much for the 'marry me.' Nice going, Fluff." He was grinning.

"Oh, don't ruin this for me." She squeezed him. "I love you, I love you, Nicholas Wilde!"

"Good thing. Your parents are here." He looked to the door, and it emitted a knock.

Judy kissed Nick's cheek and walked to the door. On the porch were the visitors from the Christmas Eve party—minus Marco—and a few others. Judy, giddy, smiled at the group. "You won't guess what Nick just did."

"What?" Bonnie said, smiling a little bit.

"New earrings?" Stu said.

"Better." She looked to Nick and held up her hand. "He asked for my hand in marriage."

Silence fell over the group. For several seconds, there was nothing, then chatter came up, then whooping and clapping. Bonnie embraced Judy, then hugged Nick politely. Stu gave them all big hugs. The rest of the group flowed in, embracing and congratulating the new couple. When it was settled, Judy stood erect. "I've got a present for Nick. Well, it's kind of two presents—here's the first one." She took Nick by the shoulder and kissed him. Gasps echoed through the living room. When she and Nick separated, Judy walked into her room and came back with a box wrapped in gold paper with a green bow. "Here's the second."

Nick took and slowly tore back the paper. A paw logo on a plain white lid was visible through the tear. Nick quickly removed the rest of the paper. "Carrots, this can't be."

She smiled. "Trust me, it's definitely what it's cracked up to be."

Nick lifted the lid, eyes widened. "Wow, Carrots, that's some commitment."

Tucked inside a silk case was the newest iPaw smartphone, screen black with a shiny cover on the outside. "How did you get this?"

She thought about the night before. "I guess you disappearing for a few hours wasn't the worst thing to happen after all." She leaned in and kissed him. "You're welcome."

Suddenly the door opened again, and Bonnie appeared with a large pan. "Brought some rolls and salad."

He looked at Judy. "Let's get full before this becomes a Merry _hungry_ Christmas." He stood up and peeled back the cover to the phone. "Right after I get this set up."

"Oh, Nick." She stood up, smiled at him, and joined her relatives in the kitchen. She glanced at the ring at her finger. _It's definitely what it's cracked up to be_.


	3. Gone

**Chapter 3 - Gone**

"Hold on," Nick said with a frown, pressing the hold button on his cell phone. "Carrots!" Nick held his phone with three fingers on one side and his thumb on the other.

Judy set down the report she was working on and walked over to Nick's room. "Carrots, what?"

"It's Bogo." He patted his left side of the bed, and Judy sat down. Nick tapped the phone once. "We're here."

There was silence for a moment. "We just received complaints."

The two exchanged glances. "About what?" Nick asked. He took Judy's paw and examined the ring. He about said something, then hesitated.

"Your arm," Bogo said, a bit gruffly. "Some… _comrades_ of yours complained that you can't perform your best with a broken arm."

Nick smirked. "That's obvious, Chief. Spill the carrots—what'd they say?"

"Honestly? That you'll be a burden to their work."

"Expected." Nick nodded. "All right. If you're going to suspend me without pay, go ahead and do it."

There was a slight hesitation. "There were a few requests for that."

"The people have a voice, don't they? Go ahead, Chief, it's a simple phrase—"

"Shut it, Wilde," he snapped. "My officers don't make the rules, I do. After meeting me, the president of the POID has agreed to sixty-five percent pay."

"You have a deal if you cut my bills in half." He gently bit his lip, just enough so Judy couldn't see it.

"You already have insurance through the ZPD."

"I meant after the insurance pays for it."

"Wilde, your hustling days are over. Sixty-fi—"

"I'll be on my best behavior when I come back."

"Do you want me to make it sixty?"

"All right, Chief, you win." He smirked. "Don't forget to send out those inspirational Christmas cards."

Bogo groaned. "Get well, Wilde." He hung up.

"Wow,that was something," Judy said, looking into Nick's eyes. She wrapped her arms around him. "You can even hustle the Chief. Impressive."

He shrugged and held up his phone. "Not as impressive as this phone you got me." He put his finger on the home button. "With a fingerprint scanner, no less."

"You're welcome," she smiled at Nick's cast. "How about we go settle on the couch? I'll make some lunch for us."

He nodded slowly. "A fox can only take so much healing without food." Judy led him downstairs, their paws entwined. When they stepped onto the main floor, she led him over to the couch and lowered him down. She sat down and kissed him, then jumped down and walked into the kitchen. For the next few minutes, there was clamor from pots and pans.

"Keep it down, Carrots—I'm trying to watch here."

"Is it your football again?" she said.

"Do you really think Millian Petersen would play football?"

"Forgive me for forgetting that you don't always watch football." She appeared with a whisk in her paw. "I thought you already watched all, what, twelve seasons?"

"Fifteen. No, I'm on season eight. I've only been in the force for so long, Fluff." He waved her away. "My food doesn't cook itself."

After half an hour, Judy returned with a steaming bowl of carrot soup. "I'll help you with this." She set the bowl down for a second and put up a television tray, then set the bowl on it. She ladled a spoonful of the soup and held it to his mouth. "Choo-choo, comes the train."

Nick rolled his eyes and took the soup, bending his neck slightly out of the way. "Move, Carrots—they just found the suspect."

Judy stepped to the side, eyes fixed on the screen. "It's not him."

"Why not?"

"You see?" She picked up the remote. The show suddenly stopped. "Don't you remember when he said Grindleton did something five years ago? That wasn't to throw you off."

"I can barely remember that."

"Watch." The screen resumed.

A jaguar appeared on screen, wearing a police uniform. "Stop!"

"What?" the main character, a fox in a police uniform, said.

"That's not our guy. It's Grindleton. They just sent the footage."

Nick's eyes widened, but Judy was nowhere to be seen. When Nick's bowl was empty, he had her come sit by him. She sat down and cuddled into him, her bowl of carrot soup balanced in one paw. She took it from her and set it down, then he took a spoonful with his free paw and held it to her mouth. "C'mon, Nick—you don't have to—"

"Like it or not, Carrots, I'm going to," he said, hovering it around her lips. "Open wide."

She opened her mouth, and he fed it to her. Every time he filled the spoon, a dull pain enveloped his arm, but he didn't dare show it. _That's what love is_ , he thought. By the time the bowl was three-quarters empty, Judy had reverted to a crisscross position and was sitting comfortably between the backrest and Nick's ribcage. When he set the bowl down and let the ache diminish, Judy leaned forward to dispose of it, but Nick pushed forward instead and took the bowl in his free paw. "Let me." He put it into the sink and sat back down. This allowed Judy to crawl up the couch and position herself comfortably next to Nick, cuddling her head into his ribcage. Next thing she knew, his strong left arm was around her, and he managed to lift her into the area in between his legs. Sitting down, her head reached his cast, but she avoided it, instead nuzzling her head into his left side. She then realized Nick's only mobile paw—his left—was gently massaging her ear.

The two occasionally struck up conversation about work, though they mostly spent the two episodes of the television show cuddling one another.

When the screen faded out to the credits, Judy looked up at Nick when he stopped stroking her ear. His arm was suspended at the top of the couch, but suddenly dislodged and drifted down the back of the couch and comfortably settle onto the armrest. Soon, breathing—softer than normal, voluntary breathing—entered her ear. She at once knew that Nick was asleep.

Nick could summon the ability of sleep within a matter of minutes. He'd be aware and awake one moment, then another moment he'd be fast asleep.

Judy couldn't manage to sleep. It seemed like Nick had summoned all the sleeping powers of the world and left her awake. All she did was stare at the mesmerizing text that slid down the black backdrop—she didn't know if it would wake him if she turned another episode on—and feel Nick's moving chest. It was like a balloon that was filled up, emptied slightly, then filled up again—over and over.

She managed to paw Nick's phone—set on the armrest, but she had to reach skillfully to reach it—and check the time without waking him up. It was just after ten, much later than she normally went to sleep. Though she felt aware, her body disagreed. She had only gotten six hours of sleep the previous night. Her eyes drifted closed, and her consciousness faded until she was unconscious, head nuzzled between Nick's ribcage and upper arm.

Judy woke, rubbing her neck and adjusting her position on the firm couch cushion. The room was pitch-black, oddly, because they had both fallen asleep when the sun still shined. Something felt different—she felt no expansion and contraction, no breathing. All she could feel was her own heart beating rapidly as she felt the plain couch supporting her. She reached over to kiss Nick, but she fell, palms turned out. The cushion wasn't warm. _Where'd he go?_ she thought. She tried to detect any type of sound—a shower, the sound of water splashing in a bath, the echoing of a phone call, or even breathing from another room. But what surprised her was everything that she didn't hear. It was so dead quiet that all she could hear was her tiny anatomy systems strenuously working, evident by a light ringing in her ears. She reached over to pick up his phone, but it wasn't there. Hers was in her room, but she didn't feel like getting up to get it.

She wanted to call out for him. But she didn't—if he was sleeping in another room, it would make him grumpy for the rest of the day. So, she stood up and tried what was most logical: searching every room in the house. She opened his bedroom door, searched a closet or two, and knocked on every closed bathroom door. She came upon the same amount of information if she were searching in an empty concrete room—nothing.

What seemed like hours of searching turned out to be hours of wasted work. All she could do was sit and put her head in her hands. He would never leave without telling her, so that wasn't the case. The stress piled higher and higher until the dam broke. Tears rushed to her eyes, and a nimbus of frigidity and impatience swirled around her, trying to mix like oil and water, but instead settling at the bottom of her heart and forcing more tears from her eyes.

After a while she felt no tears; she had already spent them all. But she didn't want to stop hoping—she had to omit her emotions and use her police attitude. She stood tall and confidently washed her face in the sink before leaving to the scene in which he had disappeared. The emotions begged to emerge, but she forced them down. _Crying won't do anything for you._

She went to her room and scavenged around for a moment. She emerged with a fistful of evidence bags and a small container in one paw and shut the door with the other. Then she returned to the living room and flicked on all the lights in the room. She set the bags on the armrest, produced a pair of tweezers from the container, and enabled the flashlight on her phone and swept it over the crevices of the couch. She stopped at one part and picked at the couch with the tweezers. It was a tuft of fox fur, and she put it in a bag. A few minutes later she secured a small, unevenly cut piece of white fur and put that in its own bag.

Even though the rules disagreed with it, she brought the white tuft of fur to her nose. It was slightly bitter-smelling and had a tinge of body odor. She'd smelled this before, way too may times. It was her species—male, specifically. She tried the next piece of fur and smiled. It was slightly orangey with the slightest tinge of pheromones. She let it linger by her nose for a moment before she put it in the bag. Every particle of that smell was a replica of what she had next to her that afternoon, her love and fiancé. She didn't even have to think to know what it was.

She slipped the bags into her pocket. She disabled the flashlight with a tap and stepped onto the tile of the kitchen. She flicked on the lights and took one glance at the refrigerator, tapped several times, and held her phone to her ear. It rang several times before it opened to several seconds of silence. "This is Q, head of the Research and Development Department speaking." His voice was monotonous, like he had been up all night.

"Q? This is Judy Hopps. We've got a serious problem."

"Did Marco get out of jail again?" He paused to yawn. "I'll be—"

"No," she interrupted. "Nick's gone."

"What?"

She explained it as professionally as she could, but it still came out abnormally.

He paused for a moment, then quickly spoke. "I'll be right over." He said something unintelligible, then hung up.

The soothing voice of his—and, considering, he was also a fox—shook her into reality that Nick was gone. He wasn't playing games. He would never do that.

She put the phone face down on the counter. She put her head in her paws. Once a tear escaped her eyelid, she could not stop crying. She sobbed profusely. All the memories from the earlier night rushed back to her so quickly, she could not accept it all simultaneously. Before long, the firm knock of Q at her door jarred her. She wiped her face with a wet rag and opened the door.

His stance was like Nick. The way he frowned was like Nick. Every feature on him seemed to be like Nick—except, of course, his face. All she wanted to do was hold Q's paw—anything to remind her of Nick—but she refrained, and instead greeted him with a firm handshake, making sure she let go at the opportune time.

"Let's just skip the hellos and get this resolved, shall we?"

She nodded and took a firm, wet breath through her nose. She held out both bags of the fur specimen and said, "this is all I found at the scene."

"Fox and rabbit fur. Nice." He nodded. "Well, let's go." He took the bags in his left hand and led her to his car with his right hand on her back. "Hopefully I'm not offending you by doing this."

She just shook her head.

They entered the car, and Q started it with a turn of the ignition. As Q pulled out of the driveway, Judy's mind wandered to Nick. She felt as if he was driving. She could practically feel her paw grasped in his. She could almost hear his calm, soothing voice speaking to her.

"Hey, Hopps. Any further information on this crime?"

She blinked a few times and nodded. "His phone was off the armrest where he kept it earlier this afternoon."

"You've been asleep that long?"

"I guess. Yeah, we were on the couch at around noon. It's…" Her eyes widened at the clock. "Eight thirty?"

"Hmm," he said more to the dashboard than to her. "We can continue an investigation after we gather up the rest of the information. But I need the ZPD to be involved with this."

"Okay." She sniffed and dialed the number, speaking for a few moments and then hanging up, "They'll be over there soon."

He nodded. A few minutes later, Q parked the car in the parking space.

* * *

"Ow."

Nick grunted as he sat up. Though there were silhouettes around him, it was so dark that he still couldn't identify anything. He shivered and rubbed his upper arms, stopping for a second to feel the fabric laid over his trunk. It was a funky, two-piece jumpsuit with elastics at the cuffs, compressing his upper arms and ankles. What was also peculiar was his arm—it felt more stable.

With the help of his night vision, he could make out a few items of furniture in the room: a rectangular bed on the right corner of the room, a toilet and sink, and a small dresser. He crawled over to the dresser with one arm and opened it; he found a flashlight, a comb, another roll of two-ply toilet paper, and a package of gum. He switched on the flashlight and examined the room: it was as he suspected. He recognized a large steel door on the bottom left of the room.

He got to his feet and stepped over to the toilet and relieved himself, then put the flashlight in his mouth and washed his hands in the ice-cold water in the sink. He laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling, then looked down at his jumpsuit he wore. He was clothed with a dark blue jumpsuit with the number D09967A on the top left of his chest. The bottom half of the jumpsuit started at the base of his ankles and ended at his waist. The waistband was elastic, easy for removal, application, and adjustment. The shirt section of the jumpsuit fit like a tight short-sleeved shirt: it started at the base of his abdomen—it also had an elastic band—and went up to the base of his neck and ended at his inner elbows, also featuring elastic bands on the base of them.

His broken arm was encompassed by an ingenious device: a firm plastic sheath covering the entire part of his forearm so that the top of his arm and paw were exposed. He found that by pushing off the bed, the device aided in the support of his partially broken arm, so he felt little pain. His arm also bent neatly and painlessly at the elbow.

The device was ingenious.

But he was confused as to why he was aided in help if he was kidnapped. A normal kidnapper would've used his arm as an advantage. But this kidnapper—they seemed like a part of an organization—seemed like they saw Nick's arm as a disadvantage to whatever horror they wanted to subject him to.

After all the silent acknowledgement, an intercom blared in a plain voice, "All F units report to cafeteria." The door to his room swung open with the intercom's message. He wandered out of the room and followed a line of foxes to the instructed room.

It was empty. A small number of mammals sat at the tables, but very little were there nonetheless. He went to the lunch line and received a tray of what seemed to be more decomposed banana peels than actual food. He sat at a lone table and took a spoonful of the foreign substance. _Tastes like peed-on dirt,_ he thought. He gagged each time he took a bite and managed to choke down a few bites.

A muscular fox with large ears sat directly in front of him. "Hey there," he greeted with an oddly cheery and treble pitched voice, but not one of a vixen. "I'm Matt."

Nick looked at his grin and bit his lip. "Hey." Nick shook his outstretched hand. "Nick," he greeted, eyes slightly widened.

After Matt seemed to calm down, he took a large spoonful of the food and shoved it into his mouth. "Man, this food is delicious!"

Nick shook his head. "Heck, no." He kept his incredulous stare on him.

"Well, it's much better than the junk I ate at home before I was taken from my bed last week. I fought this guy on this company's list, and I got totally in trouble."

Nick leaned in to him, omitting his stare. "Do you, by chance, know what this place is called?"

"Yeah, dude. It's called _DecSec_. It's owned by some guy I don't know."

Nick looked around. There were more mammals in the cafeteria now, all foxes—short, tall, fat, skinny, old and middle aged, one even looking in his median adolescence. Suddenly Marco popped into his head.

 _He's one of the only ones left to be biased against foxes. Don't get on his bad side, and you'll be okay._

Nick's eyes widened. "Do you know how we got here?"

Matt shook his head. "All I can predict is that someone kidnapped us and took us here. I can't believe this happened if this is a globally known organization."

"I can," Nick said. "I met this guy who told me that this organization is globally known, but also known for its extreme usefulness in technology. And I think I may know a way around that."


	4. I'm Out of Here

**Chapter 4—I'm Out of Here**

Nick glanced over his shoulder. A muscular rhino guard wearing a dark blue uniform approached and lifted him into the air by the back of his shirt. "Don't you dare talk like you're gonna escape. I can send you—"

Nick pulled at his collar. "Of course you _can_. I believe you mean _may_."

"Watch your mouth," he snapped, flicking Nick's snout and putting him down. "To your cell. No more dinner for you."

 _Thank my lucky stars,_ Nick thought as he started forward. The rhino tailed him all the way to his cell, pushed him inside, and closed the door most of the way. "You _may_ not come back out without permission. This's going on your record." He shut the door, leaving Nick in the darkness again.

"Nice going, Nick," he muttered, so softly that it came out more like mouthing than speaking. Ideas spun in his mind of escape routes. "I could…" He shook his head. "No. Or…" He paused for a moment. "That wouldn't." He went silent. His nose quivered a little, and he furrowed his eyebrows. "Is that…?" He lifted his arm and grimaced. "Man, I really need a shower."

Lightbulb.

"That's _it_ ," He laid on the bed, crossing one leg over the other.

In the _Zootopian Custody Handbook_ , there is a list of requirements set for all jails to follow. One is a list of activities for all the inmates. He and Judy had gone over that requirements list for the upcoming jail monitoring eligibility test. One of the requirements is a shower facility. If the owner of this facility was smart enough, he would have known about the rules.

He smiled at himself. _Now for the next call in_ , he thought.

Several minutes passed—no announcements. Another ten, then another. Finally, an announcement blared through the speaker. "Dinner has concluded. Please return to your cells. Roll call will commence in ten minutes."

Nick hung his head. _Dang it_. It was past dinner time. There was no way they'd be calling out now for what he wanted. He stood up and walked over to the dresser, opening the drawers. There was nothing inside. He was about to walk away when he stopped and turned back toward the dresser. There was something black wedged between the bed and the dresser. He pushed his paw through and with some effort retrieved a large card box. He glanced inside it. Instead of cards, there were a few items someone had put there. He dumped them onto the bed and rummaged through the pile.

There were twenty dollars, an employee's ID card, and a small pen. He looked inside the box again and fingered at a piece of paper. It was wedged inside fairly well, but he still managed to take it out with minimal ripping. He found the open, uncreased end of the paper and meticulously unfolded it. It was scrawled with messy handwriting.

 _To whoever may have found this box,_

 _i spent six weeks in this establishment and gathered up these items, you will not last long. i am writing this as they are coming to illegally execute me for assaulting one of their employees.. please take these items and find a way to esscape._

 _they are coming for you_

 _JJ Aronolds - fox_

Nick set the note face down and looked down at the ground. Considering how poorly written it was, there was little doubt it was genuine. Nick couldn't help but think of someone trying to fake that note. Even if the letter was faked, Nick still had the items. Ideas stormed in his brain of what to do.

 _Tomorrow,_ he thought, _I'm out of here._

* * *

 **Zootopia Research and Development Department, 7:37 p.m.**

"Any luck?"

Judy sat in a chair across the room of the analyzation laboratory. The floors were a white tile and brightly lit by the incandescent lights in the ceiling. Q stood over a large machine, fiddling with the controls. "I don't know if I got it right." He pressed a button, and an alert popped up. "There isn't anything in it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that all that it's showing is some useless chemical. And no, I can't pronounce it."

Judy took a breath. "Isn't there anybody who can help us?"

"Nope. They close at eight, but the chief analyzer Dan leaves half an hour early."

"So we just missed him."

"Yep." He pressed again. "Still nothing."

She tapped her foot on the ground. "Let me try." She stood up and took Q's place, then she tapped on the screen. "Well, I think I got it."

"Really?"

"Would you like to ignore the substance Zeptoni... Zepto—oh, whatever—and elaborate the results?"

He blinked a few times. "I stand corrected."

Judy smiled a little and pressed the button. A list of information came up, and she tapped the screen three times before the printer whirred and three sheets popped out. Judy took the sheets and scanned over them, eyes lowered. "Any idea what these mean?"

"They're codes—no worries, I don't understand them either. They're meant for the computer." He took them from her and ran from the room to get them processed.

A few minutes later, Q returned with the results. The machine to process the files and numbers was called a Specimen Detection Device, or SDD. Q fortunately had found a guide sitting next to the machine and worked his way through finding who the fur belonged to. It worked by taking the string of DNA code from the fur and matching it to the database.

"Will Jackrabbit?" Judy said, tracing the paper with one finger. "Member of the ZDD."

"DedSec." He smiled. "Figures."


	5. Don't Forget the Chocolate

**Chapter 5** **—** **Don't Forget the Chocolate**

 _ **THE NEXT DAY: 10:02 a.m.**_

"All F units report to the field for exercise."

 _Finally._

He had waited hours for that announcement. A hard mattress and the cold room had made his few hours of sleep the worst he had ever had. His head spun. Thoughts, plagued with many possibilities, ran through his mind like fruit in a blender. Still, his body stood and took him to the door after it swung open. The floor was terribly cold.

He grasped the soap in his paw and felt its smooth texture against his skin. _I can do this_ , he thought. He stepped out and glanced both directions—the hallway was empty. He stepped out, and a nimbus of warmth surrounded him, a disadvantage, although he still suffered cold from the room.

Soon he caught up with the other foxes, and he stepped out onto the field. It was plasticky and wiry, and it tickled his feet like he was stepping on confetti. The instructor stood a few feet from them. "I'm Kate." She was a wolf who wore black exercise shorts and a white shirt tainted with discoloration around the neckband and underarms. She was young, a few years younger than Nick. She took a long gaze at Nick, then around at the group. "I'll be guiding you along this difficult exercise program. This is day one. Enough chit-chat; drop and give me thirty."

He dropped to the ground and pushed up and down. By the time the instructor reached twelve, Nick felt sweat pooling at his underarms. He pushed on, and at twenty-five the instructor approached him. "Up, pretty boy."

Nick stood up and looked at the instructor. "What?"

"A broken arm's no excuse for getting out of sync. Ten more."

Nick got down and continued. When he finished his fifteen, the instructor turned back to the group. "All right. Sixteen laps—two miles. Get a move on."

Nick rushed off and joined the group. At one lap his chest hurt. At two a cramp was forming in his abdomen. By ten he could hardly breathe. When he caught up with a fox ahead of him and passed his sixteen laps, he stooped down, almost ready to vomit.

"You all did decent today." She hit Nick on the back. "Breathing hard is for suckers. Break for showers."

When he was done, there was fifteen minutes of free time. While Nick dressed, he grasped the bar soap in his paw. Nobody noticed he had stolen it. But it was just what he needed. It was still wet and pliable from the shower, but still quite useful. He went back to his room. He threw the soap it in his dresser drawer and retreated back to his bed, even starting to cherish the comfort of actually being on a bed of some sort.

Now just to wait until lunch. He'd be out by early afternoon.

As a matter of fact, he and everyone else would be out at that same time.

Just not in the way he had planned.

* * *

Judy tried her best to control her breaths as she and Q pulled into the parking lot of a large steel building with large windows. "ZDD" hung from above the glass doors of the establishment. Q maneuvered the car into a parking space and shut off the engine. "This is it. DedSec."

"Globally known as the ZDD." She put her paw on the door. "You ready?"

"DZ? Report," Q said into a communicator on the dashboard.

"Active and standing by."

"Ten four." He shut off the communicator. "I'll be as ready as I'll ever be." Judy opened her door when he opened his, and Q locked the car when Judy stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the building. Q let Judy in first, eyes darting around the entrance and the lobby as they entered. It was slightly cooler inside than outside. Judy gave a false smile, not that it was busy, but that in another room could be Marco.

Q walked up to the desk. A bunny wearing a pink dress, a large pair of purple hoop earrings, and a blue pearl necklace looked up from her computer, her paws still set on the keys. "Good morning. How may I help you?"

Q nodded furtively to Judy. "We're here to speak to a manager."

"He's busy." She looked back at her computer and typed for a few seconds.

"This is extremely important."

"We have an inspection to make," Judy said.

"Under what authority?" the rabbit said, standing up. She stepped back when Judy held up her badge. "All right, all right. I'll get the manager." She sat back down and held a phone to her ear. "Yes, Mr. Hoppaway? We have two inspectors in the lobby…" She looked up at them. "Why, yes, they do." She smiled, said something, then set the phone down. "Sit down a moment—Mr. Hoppaway will be with you soon."

When she and Q sat down, Judy said, "How is Marco back? We arrested him a few days ago."

"They bailed him." He breathed out. "Two point seven million."

"When's the trial?"

"There isn't one. They threatened to sue the state if they didn't drop Marco's charges."

"Oh." She looked up when the rabbit spoke.

"Sir and Ma'am, Mr. Hoppaway is ready to see you now."

Q and Judy stood up and walked over to the counter. Marco emerged from the back room and took a step back. "Judy! What are you doing here?"

"I'm inspecting."

Q cut Marco off. "May we discuss this elsewhere?"

Marco glared at Judy. "All right. Follow me." Q and Judy walked around the counter to the hallway, and Marco pushed open a door labeled "A," then closed the door behind them. "What exactly are you doing here? And who is this?" He gestured to Q.

"Major Boothroyd." He held up a badge. "ZRDD, private part-time investigator. I represent the ZIA in this matter."

Marco stepped forward. "Get out of my building. I'll call security."

"I need to ask you a few questions, then we'll leave."

Marco looked at the two mammals and sighed. "Sit down." He gestured to the conference table at the middle of the room. Marco sat in one chair on one side of the table, and Judy and Q sat in adjacent seats across from him. "Let's get going."

"I understand your organization is illegally containing vulpine mammals. Foxes."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't lie, Marco Hopps. Tell us, do you have any employee named Will Jackrabbit?"

"I do."

Q pushed a piece of paper forward, turning it so Marco could read it. "Can you explain this? The paper contains the full report of this employee. He kidnapped Nick."

Marco scoffed and ripped the paper in half, right down the middle.

Q held up his wristwatch and stood up. "Code purple. I repeat, we have a code purple."

A smashing sound followed ten seconds of silence, and a muffled voice exploded from outside the room. "This is the police! All employees, evacuate the facility at once!"

Marco stood up. He expected Judy and Q to be in front of him, but they were gone. Three officers marched into the room, guns leveled at Marco. "You're done, Mr. Hoppaway. Paws over your head."

* * *

 **DedSec Containment, Nick's Cell, 10:45 a.m.**

The door creaked open, casting a beam of light on the wall. Nick's silhouette was curled up next to the wall on top of a bed. It suddenly shifted, and Judy took a step back. Her face was stained with happy tears. She approached the sleeping fox and silently looked at him. She cradled his knees with her left arm, her right arm cradled under his back. She sent all the power to her biceps and lifted him off the bed, cradling him in her arms like a baby.

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked into Judy's eyes. "This is an extremely lucid dream. But I'm enjoying it. You're at home, crying your little guts out..." His eyes widen as reality struck him. "Wait. Is this real?"

She laughed. " _Yes_ , silly."

He let her hold him for a little more, then he sat up and lowered his feet to the ground. He got a real look at her, and they hugged, then she planted a long kiss on his lips, and for at least twenty seconds left it that way. He teared up and smiled as best as he could for a fox that felt many emotions at once. He held her to his chest.

There it was, the same scent, the same feeling. She snuggled her head in his ribcage and broke down once again. He held her, minutes passing. They separated. She then got a good look at him: He wore an ugly two-piece jumpsuit. His fur atop his head was a mess, and his ears looked scraggly and disorderly.

"Let's get out of here," Nick said softly, holding his paw out. Judy took it, and he led her outside.

"Can I get my actual clothes on?" He said before they departed up the stairs. He looked down at his clothes and scoffed, pretending to gag. "I think it's growing mold."

Nick left for a moment and returned, wearing the same clothes from the night before: a yellow Hawaiian dress shirt, a tan pair of slacks, and his striped red and blue tie. They went back up the stairs, their paws interlocked.

"Hey," she said as they crossed the disorderly lobby. "What's that?" She pointed to the contraption on his arm.

"Oh, they put it on my arm when I got there. It supports my arm whenever I use it, so my arm works now. But I don't know why they did it."

They never did figure out why DedSec was so generous.

* * *

Judy stuck a key into the door and pushed it open. She breathed in a waft of gingerbread as she stepped in. The house was spotless, and the Christmas tree stood as it was. Nick crossed the living room and sat down, and Judy sat nearby, hugging him again. "Thank you, Nick."

"Oh, bunnies, so emotional." He smiled and returned her hug. He looked up when the doorbell rang. "Oh, I'll get it." He stood up and took the door handle, then pulled it open. "Hey, Fluff, come see this."

A large basket filled with items sat in the middle of the porch. Judy snuggled into his side, looking at it. "Isn't that sweet?" She stepped down and picked it up. "Look at all this stuff." She brought it inside and set it down on the floor next to the tree. Nick joined her on the floor and lifted a bottle from the basket. "Sparkling apple cider." His eyes widened, and he reached over to the basket. "Two bottles." He smirked. "Too bad it isn't champagne."

She hit his ribcage and took out the rest of the items. "Blueberry scented candle, one-hundred-dollar Zamazon gift card…" She lifted a box. "…chocolate…"

He lifted the last item. "I can share this with you." He turned it over. "Seven feet by seven feet. And it's orange and blue."

"Our duo colors."

Nick set down the folded blanket and lifted a card from the basket, then ran his claw through the letter and removed a piece of folded paper. "To Nick and Judy: We wish you a Merry Christmas. We know you're going through some trouble right now, so we'd love to cheer you up. We enjoy you in our neighborhood. Sincerely, Your Friends."

"They're anonymous?" Judy asked.

"Anonymous or not, they were very generous." He looked back at the basket. "Wait a minute."

"What?"

He reached inside and quickly lifted something out, holding it over them.

It was a green, leafy plant with white berries; and a red silk bow tied at the stem. "You dumb fox," Judy said.

He smiled. "Sly bunny. Merry Christmas."

She playfully hit his shoulder. "Let's go light that candle."

"Don't forget the chocolate," Nick said, holding it up.

"I won't."

* * *

 **Hey, everyone, I'm glad you could bear with me through these edits. I'll be regularly checking this for errors, but there will be no more content-based editing on this story. Hopefully you've enjoyed the wonderful year we've had together, and I wish you well as 2019 approaches within the next few hours. Please, enjoy yourselves, and don't forget the chocolate. Or whatever else you're having for the new year.**

 **Sayonara!**


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